


constellations

by totalnerdatheart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Animal Transformation, Gen, M/M, Multi, One Shot Collection, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23505706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totalnerdatheart/pseuds/totalnerdatheart
Summary: “in every universe, in every world where we are together, I would choose you”...self-indulgent Harry/Ron One Shot collection
Relationships: Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Harry Potter/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 38





	1. love from the ashes

Ron was on edge, slowly making his way through the field slowly, wand at the ready. Beside him, as always, was Harry. He too was ready for an attack, but Harry seemed a little more at ease than Ron. Something that bothered him, but he wouldn’t dare voice his opinion.

Working together wasn’t unusual for the two, as Aurors, they were a good team. Both had strengths that covered the other’s weaknesses, but lately, the two had been out of sync. Harry was hiding something and Ron wasn’t going to push the subject, he promised himself that he wouldn’t push Harry again unless it was necessary. 

The war might have been six years ago, but some things still haunted Ron.

Harry sighs loudly, drawing Ron away from his thoughts, and he stops, looking through the dark field like the assailant they were after would just show up to stop his boredom.

“Think if we lay out a trap he would fall for it?” Harry wonders, stretching his arms over his head. “Maybe give him something wicked to burn.”

“Not sure if it works like that mate,” Ron replies smiling, Harry rolls his eyes in return huffing once more. “Though to think of it, I wouldn’t know what an arsonist would want to burn.” 

“I’m sure Hermione would know,” A phrase the both of them have said many times during their time with the Auror department. It was a sentiment they both agreed on, they missed Hermione but they were glad she hadn't gone into the same field as them. “I don’t think this bloke is showing up tonight.”

“This place matches his track record,” A muggle farm, set close to a hidden wizard village. The general belief was that the wizard sets the fires wanted to scare off the local muggles. So far the damage had been rather minimal, but within the last few weeks the fires had been getting bigger and there was reason to believe that the perpetrator might get more dangerous. 

It was honestly a rather small case, something that honestly could have been done by one Auror but Harry had asked for Ron’s help on this one and Ron, as always, couldn’t say no. 

Wouldn’t say no.

This time Ron sighed, wondering why, again, Harry was so out of sorts. 

“Listen, mate,” Ron begins then stops, the sudden change in the atmosphere making him act out of instinct. His arm goes out and he pushes Harry back as hard as he can, causing his friend to fall to the ground. The moment Ron’s arms are down he has a breath of a moment before a wall of fire appears between them. The flames dancing in the place where Harry just was.

One of them had just activated a trap.  
“You okay?” Ron yells over the roar of the flame, his wand already out and prepared for aguamenti. “Yeah,” Harry shouts back, getting back to his feet. Ron can barely see him through the flames, but he can tell that Harry is having the same issue that he was having. The spell isn't working. Which meant that the fire they were dealing with was no ordinary fire. 

Quicker than Ron could have done it, he saw Harry’s patronus leave the scene, following protocol to get back up. Fiendfyre was never something to be messed with, even Senior Aurors didn’t go up against the curse alone. 

Ron backs away from the fire, trying to excess the situation from a different angle. He only had a moment when he felt flames lick the back of his coat. Turning towards the source he realized that the fire wasn’t a single line separating him from Harry, but a circle. A circle that was rapidly closing in on him.

He tried aparation, but wasn’t surprised when it didn’t work. The person they were chasing had set up the trap effectively.

Outside of the circle, Harry was shouting spell after spell, desperately trying to dispell the flames. Ron caught glimpses of his expression, anguished as it was. They had both come to the same realization then. By the time help would arrive Ron would have already been swallowed by the fiendfyre.

The flames grew hotter around him, burning him slowly as they grew closer to where he stood. He knew that he was in pain, but it was registering in the back of his mind. His only thoughts were that he couldn’t let Harry see this, couldn’t let his best friend watch another person die. 

“Run,” He shouts, throwing a spell at the flames that caused Harry to jump back when they briefly flared his way. “I don’t want you here Harry!” 

“Are you fuckin daft?” Harry shouts back, his voice raw and filled with emotion. “I’m not leaving you, I’m going to get you out. Harry gets closer to the flames and Ron finds himself once again repeating the spell that pushed Harry away just moments ago. 

The flames hit his back and Ron knows these are his last few moments. He can’t ignore the pain anymore, the heat making him grimace. His eyesight is hazy but he can still see Harry desperately trying to reach through the fire to get to him. It’s no use getting Harry to try and back away, look away from what’s happening. His friend would never let someone go, even if it cost him his own life. 

“I’m sorry-” Ron says, hoping his voice carried through the flames to Harry. It’s nowhere near what he really wanted to say to Harry, but anything more would just haunt his friend and Ron doesn’t want to be another one of Harry’s ghosts.

He uses the same spell on the flames once more, pushing Harry back further than the last time. It’s all he can do, he can’t let Harry die. The world will always need Harry Potter.

With a single moment of peace, Ron closes his eyes and lets the fire consume him.

…

Harry awakens with a start, shooting up in bed with a silent scream on his lips. Around him, he is briefly made aware that he isn’t in the dark field he remembered the last being, and that the high pitched sound was a medical charm alerting nearby medics of his panicked state. 

Someone was repeating his name, starting urgently and becoming calmer as Harry himself shook away his instinct to fight. 

“Harry?” He turns to see a pair of glasses being offered him and he puts them on with shaky hands. When he finally has them on, Hermione's concerned face greets him. She looks unkempt, hair more wild than usual and deep bags beneath her eyes. He can only imagine how horrid he himself must look, Ron would probably comment on his permanent bedhead - 

“Ron?” He asks after his friend, trying to sit up but is pushed back down by Hermione gently. “Where’s Ron?” Harry demands, something tickling at the back of his mind telling him that something was very wrong, and Hermione’s heartbroken expression only affirms his fear. 

“Ron’s gone Harry,” Hermione says voice breaking as tears slide down her cheeks. “They only found the ashes and you were passed out, the medi-witches had said you used up almost all your magical stores-”

The alarm charms around Harry’s bed go off once more as he goes back into a state of panic. Someone was yelling, and when he saw Hermione’s scared expression he realized briefly that the yelling was coming from him.

Healers rushed into the room and Harry fought them briefly before he saw a flash of blue and his world went black once more.

…

At night he dreams of fire.

It burns the ground at his feet but the flames never hurt him, their touch doesn’t burn any part of him. He runs his fingers through the haze of red and looks up to a pair of blue eyes.

The blue eyes are in anguish. 

The flames don’t burn Harry but they are destroying Ron, catching his cloak and spreading. Harry screams at Ron in his dream, begs him to fight against the fire, to do anything more than just stand there and let it swallow him.

Ron never screams though, never fights against the flames, just stands there with a calm expression on his face, the same one he gave Harry the last time he ever saw him.

“I’m sorry.” He says it's the only thing he ever says in these dreams, these nightmares.

…

“Thanks again mate,” George says as Harry puts away another box in storage. They’re moving the unsold merchandise by hand, making sure to not set off anything unstable. Harry had agreed to help the older Weasley brother mostly to get everyone off of his back about never leaving his apartment, and partially because he knew that a lot of manual labor might mean he could just pass out and not have to face his nightmares once more.

George is talking to him, but Harry doesn’t register it. He huffs as he puts a box down and turns to George, ready to ask the other man to repeat himself. 

“Sorry George, kind of stuck in my head.” Harry knows that if anyone can understand what he’s going through it’s the twin who lost his other half. Losing Ron wasn’t anything how he imagined losing a brother might feel, but there was this empty hole inside of him that just left him feeling raw inside.

“Just don’t let it consume you,” George says, answering Harry’s thoughts with a serious expression. “The grief, the anger? It rips at you, leaves you in shreds. Get some help,” George advises, setting down his own box before facing Harry fully. “He wouldn’t want to see you like this.” 

Harry doesn’t have anything to say to that. He knows he needs help, needs to talk to someone about what happened.

Funny how the only person he wanted to talk to, was the person who was causing his grief.

…

Running helped, Harry found. It was something that Ron used to do, and after another night of no sleep, Harry found himself running barefoot outside the burrow for as long as he could bear it.

He had to apparate back to the house, having no idea where he was. He had come back with his pajama bottoms torn and his feet bloodied, and he was exhausted but he didn’t feel numb. Mrs. Weasley had been worried sick after him, but she didn’t do anything but clean him up and tell him about a trail that Bill had made years ago that started at the shed and went alongside the magical barrier of the property. She had also told him that if he ever ran without trainers again she would put him on gnome duty for three weeks straight. 

…

Three months after Harry had awoken from a coma and he was finally allowed back to work, under a probationary period. He should be thankful for not being outright fired after he had tried to get back on the arsonist - now murder case that he had been working on, but Kingsley had stepped in and told him that the case was being personally taken care of. 

“I’ll give you everything we have when we catch the bastard Harry, I can promise you this.”

Everything, as it turned out, ended up being a thin file on the name of a coward of a man who wasn’t even a Death Eater. A name by Richard Lewis who had found the fiendfyre charm in a dark book and used it without even realizing what he did. He was a bigot who just wanted to scare off the muggle farmers and teach them a lesson by killing off some of their livestock. 

It was never his intention to harm the Aurors that were on his case, he didn't even realize he had killed one until he was brought in for questioning.

“I swear I was just trying to scare those muggles off! I didn’t think anything but a cow would step foot in the ring!” The man was shouting, tugging at the enchanted chains that held him captive to the chair in the interrogation room. He wasn’t aware that the minister himself was watching his interrogation, otherwise, Harry imagined the man might have pissed himself in fear.

“Roberts gave him Veritaserum the moment Lewis begged for it,” Kingsley states from his spot next to Harry. They had both wanted Ron’s killer to be someone vile, some villain that they could push more of the blame on. Someone they could truly punish for taking away someone they both cared about. The man before them was a common coward, one that had accidentally gone too far in his bigoted ways.

The whole situation was unsatisfying, and it just angered Harry further. 

“He’s going to be charged with accidental manslaughter,” Kinglsey continues. “The court will hear any plea he might offer, but he’s not going to get away with anything.” 

“Ron would probably say something about how much easier the paperwork will be because the guy wasn’t a death eater,” Harry notes, his voice hollow, the anger draining from him rapidly. Besides him, Kinglsey chuckles, and his reaction causes Harry to smile despite himself. Ron would have loved to know that his hatred of paperwork would have made Kingsley laugh.

…  
Charlie Weasley was always an intimidating man, he wasn’t the tallest of the Weasley brothers, but what he lacked in height he made up in muscle mass and pure personality. He was loud and rough but kind-hearted and surprisingly intuitive of people’s emotions. Harry understood why Ron was so partial to Charlie the more Harry got to know him, and since the months after his brother’s death, Charlie had been around England more than usual. 

“I was going to be heading back to Romania next week,” Charlie explains, pointing his sandwich in Harry’s direction, mustard falling down to the table. Charlie talked with his hands, a trait he shared with Ron and despite the mess, it made Harry smile. “Then I got a call from the ministry saying there was a dragon sighting, right near Bibury.” 

Harry was only partially listening to Charlie’s ramblings, he was used to the brother constantly filling up silences and was comfortable with that fact. The mention of a dragon in England wasn’t rare, there were a few that the Ministry kept tabs on, but hearing that one was so close to a muggle settlement was rare.

Bibury was also not far from the farm that Harry had lost Ron. 

“Thought that would get your notice,” Charlie says, grinning at catching Harry not necessarily paying attention to their lunch. “I’m supposed to meet up with an Auror and follow whatever rules you might have on this and I requested it is you.”

“Dragons would be a nice change,” Harry says dryly. It was no secret that he was annoyed at the continued probation work he was having to deal with at work. Everyone was still walking tiptoes around Harry, expecting him to break down like he would have when he was younger. “Beats inspections.” 

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Charlie says, shoving his food aside and pulling out a file. “Probably best to set up camp away from the edge of the forest. I don’t know what kind of dragon we are dealing with but it’s probably seeking shelter somewhere in there. No serious damage has been done, beyond a missing sheep or two.” 

Harry listens as Charlie goes on about the rest of the file, he occasionally gives his own thoughts on what they should do. The mission was relatively cut and dry, go in, erase muggle memories, find the dragon if there really is one, and leave.

Ron would have loved to work with his brother on a mission, and Harry decides that he’s going to make the most of it.

…

Three days into their search and they still haven’t seen a dragon, but the signs were all around them. Large claw marks in trees, small scorch marks, and even a small nest of sorts.  
“I can’ figure out any sort of pattern,” Charlie admits, his various field guides laid out before him. The table was filled with pictures and sketches of various species that the dragon could possibly be, but Charlie’s notes were a mess. Every time he thought he had an idea, the dragon would display something completely out of character. “I’m starting to think this is a new breed entirely.”

“The only constant thing is that eventually, it needs to eat,” Harry says, pulling out the chart with the dates of the few missing livestock from the area. “It’s been a couple of days since it’s last had anything, we could probably lure it out with some food.”

“Hungry dragons are not something to mess with,” Charlie reminds Harry seriously, but Harry already knows he’s going to be winning this argument. So far the dragon has been relatively harmless, but that any amount of factors that they can’t control could change that. Might as well try and get the dragon on their terms before it does some serious harm. 

“What do we do if it attacks us?” Harry asks, memories of an angry Hungarian Horntail sitting at the back of his mind. “I don’t really want to try and out fly one again.” 

“I’ve got one hell of a stunning charm,” Charlie says, wagging his wand slightly. “There’s also some barrier traps we can lay. They don’t last long against a dragon, but if we drug up its supper and make it nice and sleepy, we should be fine.”

“Love the confidence Charlie, makes me feel right safe.” Charlie laughs, bold and bright and Harry joins the older man. Despite the odd circumstances, it felt good to be doing something more than his everyday routine again.

…

“Hour four,” Harry mutters, playing at the grass beneath his feet. “Do you think the dragon is nocturnal?” 

“Could be a possibility at this point,” Charlie mutters, scratching out something in his notes. Harry had tried to understand them at one point, but half of them were in a language he didn’t recognize and the other half was illustrations that Harry couldn’t make any sense of. 

They’re quiet for another long moment, looking out at the field where a lone cow was grazing silently. There wasn’t much to do but wait, and they’ve long since run out of things to talk about.

“Ron was in love you know,” Charlie says, breaking the silence between them. Harry felt like he was slapped in the face with Charlie’s confession, wishing desperately they could have just stayed silent. He was okay with talking about his dead friend, but only if it was light conversation. Love was never a light topic, not for Harry. “He was writing to me about some bloke that he was trying to get the nerve to do something about.” 

“I uh- hadn’t realized.” Harry swallows, looking away from Charlie to the ground beneath his shoes. He’d have done anything for the ground to just disappear beneath him so he could avoid this conversation. “We didn’t really talk about that kind of stuff.”

“Seems like a thing mates would chat about,” Charlie says and Harry can’t help but agree. It was something they used to talk about, till Harry had to go and fuck it all up by falling in love with Ron. “You could talk to me about it? I’m probably shite at romantic feelings but I can listen like the best of them.”

“Ta,” Harry barely gets out, his emotions consuming him. Charlie must have caught on to what Harry had been feeling, had probably wanted to help him get over his brother because it’s something Ron would have wanted. “Listen Charlie I -”

“Shh,” Charlie says, his expression going from calm to serious. Ahead of them, a dark shadow moved through the trees near the edge of the field, slowly making its way towards the trap that they had laid out. “Great timing you bloody beast,” Charlie whispered, taking out his wand prompting Harry to do the same. “We’re going to finish this Harry.” 

Harry doesn’t reply, instead of getting into action. The field was dark, the sun having set an hour before, but Harry could make out the dragon slightly. It wasn’t a large dragon compared to the ones that Harry had run into in the past, but it was big enough to cause some significant damage. 

The scales on the dragon shined a deep red color in the moonlight, glittering as the dragon stalked towards its prey. Harry could see wings, tucked against the dragon's side tightly, making the creature seem smaller, its tale was long swaying back and forth gracefully. Overall the dragon moved almost like a cat, graceful and controlled.

Silently they made their way towards the trap as the dragon did the same, the silencing charms they cast earlier being made to good use. Charlie had determined that if the dragon was hungry enough the creature wouldn’t even bother with them as long as the cow seemed like easier prey. 

Slowly the dragon made its way out of the woods and towards the cow, the darkness made it hard for Harry to see the dragon fully, but from what he could see he thought the dragon was beautiful. 

The dragon stops, and Charlie and Harry do the same. They watch as the dragon stalks down low, backing down on its haunches. In one leap the dragon bounds up into the air, mouth opened and claws prepared to tear into the meat. In an instant, the dragon lands, the cow’s neck fits in its mouth and it jerks its head sharply, killing the cow instantly. For a moment the dragon looks up and Harry swears that it looks straight at them, he holds his breath waiting for something to happen, but the dragon goes back to its prey.  
Charlie makes the hand single to go ahead and they make their way around to the back of the dragon, far enough away for any flames to not reach them. The whole situation felt eerily like the night a few months ago and if it weren’t for the very real dragon in front of them as a distraction, Harry felt like he might have panicked.

The barrier spell went up with ease, the area shimmering around them slightly, Harry turned to Charlie to see if it was time to hit the dragon with a stunning spell but Charlie had stopped moving altogether, his eyes locked firmly on the dragon who was no longer looking at his prey, but at Charlie instead. 

All of the dragon’s attention was on Charlie and Harry looked to see that the meal that the dragon should have been almost done eating was barely touched, and the dragon would have needed to eat most of the meat for the sleeping drugs to take hold. All of his defensive spells ran through his mind but none of them would hold up against a dragon, and he didn’t want to hurt the creature, but he didn’t want Charlie to be hurt either.

“Hey!” Harry shouted, figuring a professional should be able to deal with a dragon much more than he could, deliberately getting the dragon’s attention away from Charlie and towards himself. “Over here!” 

The dragon turns his whole body towards Harry’s direction now and crouches down low, similar to how it was before it lept on the cow from earlier. Harry doesn’t move, mimicking Charlie’s still stance from just moments before. The dragon was only about a hundred feet away from him now and Harry could see the dragon’s blue eyes staring at him in the darkness, it’s pupils blown wide. A low growl rumbles through the dragon’s chest as it looks at Harry, turning its head slightly, showing the creature’s curiosity. 

In a movement the dragon lays down completely, its attention never straying from Harry, but it’s body language going from offensive to docile. The growling continues, but the dragon doesn’t seem like it’s going to do anything more.

Harry looks over the dragon’s head to see Charlie looking bewilderingly at the dragon, surprised by its actions. He had said that the dragon was almost foreign to him by the evidence they had gathered the past couple of days, but to see him completely shocked was not something Harry had seen before. Charlie Weasley was always the epitome of cool, nothing ever seemed to surprise him, but at that moment he looked a lot like his younger brother Percy. 

Charlie’s wand flashes as he aims it towards the ground, a silent spell that Harry hadn’t seen before, making large vines come from the ground and wrap itself around the dragon’s body. The dragon thrashes against the vines, breaking them, but with every vine, the dragon broke free from more seemed to spring up in their place. In a few moments the dragon was contained, the vines wrapping themselves effectively around its body, some even making its way around its snout, stopping it from breathing out any fire. 

“That should hold it for a little bit,” Charlie says in an exhausted breath, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his sleeve. He made his way over to Harry, taking a long look at the dragon beneath the thick vines as he went. “I wasn’t sure that would work, to be honest.” 

“That’s reassuring,” Harry says dumbly, his attention still on the dragon. The creature was still staring at Harry despite Charlie’s movements, it wouldn’t look away. It was familiar almost, but Harry shook away those thoughts as soon as he had them. It was just lack of sleep, nothing more. 

“I’ve never seen behavior like that before,” Charlie admits, confirming Harry’s earlier suspicions that this dragon was acting strangely. “I don’t even know where to start understanding.” 

The dragon continues to look at Harry, slowly blinking its eyes before laying his head down in submission, the low growling stops and something like a whine comes from the creature instead. 

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was because Harry really was as crazy as the Prophet made him out to be, but something in the dragon’s movements told Harry that he was safe to step closer. Distantly he hears Charlie swearing loudly and telling him not to get any closer but Harry ignores him, walking closer until he is an arm’s length away from the creature’s head. Slowly he lets his arm out and touches the dragon’s snout, never breaking eye contact. At the touch, the dragon closes his eyes. 

_“Please leave.”_

__

__

The voice was low and in pain, and so achingly familiar that Harry felt as if his entire world had stopped.

“Ron?” Harry’s voice was only loud enough for the dragon to hear, and the dragon’s eyes opened once more, looking at Harry with bright blue eyes that were as familiar to him as his own. The dragon said nothing, but Harry knew it to be true somehow.

Months of mourning a dead man came crashing down, and Harry dropped to his knees in front of the dragon - in front of Ron. His head felt like it was spinning and he closed his eyes, leaning forward till his head was resting on the warm scales of the creature before him. 

_“Harry.”_


	2. love burning bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re brooding.” Ron’s rumbling voice spoke in Harry’s mind, clearly amused. “They should call you The Boy who Broods.”
> 
> “Be better than some of the other nicknames I’ve gathered,” Harry replies, leaning his head up to grin at Ron. His friend smiled back, large teeth glinting in the light from the sun. He knows that Ron probably looked terrifying to an outside perspective, but dragon or not Harry loved Ron’s smile. 
> 
> “You should go eat something,” Ron lowered his head, twisting so that he was facing Harry head-on, large blue eyes slitted in the light of the sun. “Mum will come out and threaten to feed you.”
> 
> “Funny how you’re an actual dragon and your mother is still more terrifying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> continuation of "love from the ashes" aka the dragon!ron au

Time seemed to move differently after the revelation that Ron was alive.

The first week after the discovery was a chaotic blur. Harry had often found himself in the throws of different emotions, ranging from confusion to happiness to disbelief. There were so many things that had to be decided, and so many people that insisted they were in on those decisions that Harry had just felt lost.

Mostly he kept by Ron’s side, partially because for whatever reason Harry was the only one that could communicate with him, and also because he couldn't bear to be away from him for too long. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that his actions were unhealthy and that he was avoiding something he didn’t want to deal with, but he really couldn’t be bothered. No one approached Harry on this though, the issue of Ron being an actual dragon distracted people from the smaller issue of Harry’s crumbling psyche.

Beneath his back, Ron’s scales shift as he breathes out slowly in and out in the late afternoon sun, his warm side heating Harry to the point where he could potentially drift off to sleep, but didn’t. In front of him was the Burrow, the lights on and smoke coming from the chimney. People were in every room of the house, every family member being home since Fred’s funeral and then some. It was normally comforting having all of Harry’s loved ones in one place, but now it just seemed too much, so Harry was finding ways of trying to stay away. Ron didn’t seem to mind his near-constant company too much, so Harry spent most of his time by his best friend’s side.

Ron for the most part was quiet. He had been alone for months before the faithful night that Charlie and Harry had discovered his new state, and when Harry asked he just described that time as being dream-like, and that he wasn’t quite himself. When asked about the night that he had supposedly died he only briefly accounts feeling and unbearable pain and waking up in a body he didn’t know how to operate. With Hermione he gave a few more details, talking about how at some point the fiendfyre had burned away his skin and there were scales beneath, but with his mother he had said that there was no pain at all.

Harry suspects that Ron isn’t being honest about a lot of things, but he never pushes. They all have their secrets and Harry had been hiding one from Ron himself for the better part of two years now.

Ron lied about what he was feeling, and Harry was lying about his feelings for Ron.

_“You’re brooding.”_ Ron’s rumbling voice spoke in Harry’s mind, clearly amused. _“They should call you The Boy who Broods.”_

“Be better than some of the other nicknames I’ve gathered,” Harry replies, leaning his head up to grin at Ron. His friend smiled back, large teeth glinting in the light from the sun. He knows that Ron probably looked terrifying to an outside perspective, but dragon or not Harry loved Ron’s smile.

_“You should go eat something,”_ Ron lowered his head, twisting so that he was facing Harry head-on, large blue eyes slitted in the light of the sun. _“Mum will come out and threaten to feed you.”_

“Funny how you’re an actual dragon and your mother is still more terrifying.” Harry laughs as Ron rolls his eyes, a rumbling from deep in his throat showing his amusement as some form of dragon laughter. Relearning Ron’s body language was a process, but an easy one for Harry at least. Ron was still mostly the same on his good days. “If I leave, will you go hunt?”

_“Possibly.”_ Ron says, adding nothing more. It was a conversation Ron wasn’t comfortable with. He claimed that he didn’t like the idea of hunting, but he knew his family couldn’t afford to feed him so he would deal with it. Harry suspected there was something more, remembering the time Molly had come out and found Ron cleaning the blood off of himself and quickly turning away.

For all the ways Ron was very much himself, he was also a wild animal.

“Do what you have to mate,” Harry says, getting up and placing his hand against the side of Ron’s neck, patting it slightly. “I’ll tell everyone to bugger off until tomorrow afternoon.”

Ron bows his head in thanks and gets up, stretching out his limbs in a very cat-like fashion, his wings spreading out towards the sky, before folding back into his side. Harry watches briefly as he walks towards the forest at the edge of the Burrow’s magical boundaries, wondering if Ron was going to attempt to fly again or not. Flight was something that he was very much capable of, Charlie had determined that very early on, but somehow Ron just couldn’t get it right.

Running a hand through his hair and wincing as his fingers caught a tangle, Harry turns and makes his own way towards the Burrow, thoughts of flying in his head the whole time.

…

Hermione was in her element, Harry mused as he watched his friend place another book on the pile beside her, one pen in her hand and another one tucked behind her ear. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, curls having fallen out as she went about her research as the day went. She’d been at it since Harry had contacted her months ago, being the first person to come and see Ron after he had discovered him with Charlie. She was pressed against Ron’s side, a position many people had been in when they visited Ron, the closeness being a thing no one had ever thought they’d be able to do again after his presumed death.

“Be careful where you huff now,” Hermione chided Ron, pulling a scroll away from his snout. “Some of these scrolls are older than Hogwarts, I don’t need you accidentally setting one of them on fire again.”

Ron gives Harry a look and rolls his eyes, laying his head back down again to continue watching Hermione work. It felt like being back in school a bit, with Hermione and Ron being on one side of the many tables in the library, and Harry on the other. Hermione was always cold and she had no issue leaning into either Ron or Harry to find some warmth, it was a habit she had picked up in their early years at Hogwarts and it was something that Harry didn’t think Hermione even realized she was doing.

Harry dropped down beside Hermione, laying back against Ron’s warm side and looked over at some of Hermione’s notes, frowning at the aggressive crossing out on what looked to be most of her research. Hermione turns her head and sees Harry’s expression and frowns, shaking her head. She’s hit another dead end it seems, and Harry knows that it’s upsetting her.

_“Make her go out,”_ Ron says, knowing Hermione’s mood despite not being able to talk to her. Ron was always good at knowing when either of them needed a break, sometimes even physically dragging them away from their work, that fact didn’t stop even as a dragon. _“She’s going to cry if she keeps going.”_

“You and I are going out,” Harry snatches Hermione’s pen from her hand, and throws it aside. “We are going to get royally smashed at a muggle pub and you’re going to sleep in till at least nine.”

“Nine Harry? That’s horrid.” Hermione gives him a small smile, her exhaustion showing through. Harry nudges her with his shoulder and she leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “It hasn’t been all for nothing though, I need to check something but I think I found a few answers.”

_“Are they worth sharing with my family?”_ Ron asks, and Harry repeats what Ron says, watching as Hermione plays with the grass at her knees as she considers her answer.

“The theory is that Harry was behind all this,” Her voice is quiet and Harry stills beside her as Ron lifts his head and tilts it in curiosity. Harry opens his mouth but Hermione continues quickly, “When they found you, Harry, you were almost completely drained of your magic, and a transformation of Ron’s scale would take a considerable amount of magical energy.”

“That sounds crazy.” Harry pulls away from Hermione, looking at her with wild eyes. “I couldn’t have possibly done that, I’d have to be as strong as Dumbledore.”

“Stronger actually,” Hermione states, grabbing onto one of Harry’s hands. “You’ve always been Harry, the things you’ve been able to do at your age are extraordinary, well beyond anything that Wizards three times your age could accomplish.”

_“You’re kind of awesome mate,”_ Ron agrees, and Harry gives his friend the same bewildered look he gave Hermione.

“There are legends of mermaids being witches that are afraid to drown, what if to stop the fire from killing Ron, you turned him into something fireproof?”

…

More answers came, surprisingly, from Bulgaria in the form of Viktor Krum.

“It’s a folktale where I grew up,” Viktor explains as he pulls out a very old book filled with fairy tales. “The blacksmith and his maiden. In a time of war there was a talented blacksmith whose swords were unbreakable, and his loving wife who was his everything. When war came to their village the opposing army burned the blacksmith’s home with the wife trapped inside.”

“Desperate for his wife to live, the blacksmith used the entirety of his magic to transform her into a dragon, a creature in which flames meant no harm.” Harry and Hermione shared a look, Hermione’s theory is more or less confirmed, most fairy tales were based in some kind of truth, something the Deathly Hallows had taught them.

“How does it end?” Hermione interrupts, her curiosity coming out in full force. Her hands were gripped tightly around her teacup, her knuckles white and the cup shaking slightly. She had contacted Viktor after finding a picture of a tapestry from Bulgaria depicting a woman with the shadow of a dragon and Viktor had taken a portkey to England as soon as he was able to. They agreed to meet at Hermione’s apartment first where Viktor had promised to keep the fact that Ron was indeed alive.

“There are different endings depending on who tells it,” Viktor turns the book and shows Harry and Hermione the illustration of a dragon flying over an army, burning them with their flames. “This one’s a bit violent, the dragon finds her blacksmith dead and burns the invading army, leaving no survivors before she flies away to the mountains, never to be seen again. My little cousin has a version where the dragon finds the blacksmith and cries over him, their tears bringing the blacksmith from the dead.”

“The version that picture is from,” Viktor pulls out a copy of the tapestry that Hermione showed him. “This is the version where the woman becomes a dragon but comes back to the blacksmith as his wife. It’s up to interpretation, the rough translation says the woman is dragon born.”

“Not exactly a guide on how to turn someone back then,” Harry says disappointed, the guilt he feels coming through. It wasn’t enough that he had accidentally ‘transformed Ron into a dragon through extreme emotional and magical distress’ as Hermione would say, now they were still no closer to getting him back to his human form.  
“I’m sorry, truly,” Viktor says, reaching across the table to squeeze Harry’s forearm gently. “I’m going to help you figure this out, Ron is a friend.”

…

Winter came and Harry was glad of the fact that Dragons just tended to run warm, the area around Ron was comfortable despite the cold and Harry was relaxed against his friend’s side, a place that many had teased was now the ordinary for the pair to be found in.

_“Do you think I should hibernate?”_ Ron asks, head tilting so he could see Harry fully. _“I think I’m nocturnal but maybe I should do that too.”_

“I feel like you’d know that better than me,” Harry shrugs, not really wanting to agree. Ron had been becoming distant as of late, spending more of his nights away from the house and the rest of the day sleeping. Harry couldn’t spend his whole day with Ron, his attention being spread elsewhere, but he didn’t like the idea of Ron sleeping off in some cave for months.

He still had nightmares of the day he thought Ron died forever, waking up screaming at him to run away from the flames.

Not that he would ever admit this to Ron.

He wasn’t saying a couple of other things to Ron either though.

“Do you like it?” Harry asks, breaking the silence with a question that had been burning at the back of his mind for months now. He pulls away from Ron so that he’s no longer leaning against his side, giving him his full attention. The snow around them is falling slowly but it melts before it even falls around them.

_“It’s -”_ A rumble comes from deep within Ron’s chest, followed by a sigh, steam coming from Ron’s nostrils. If Ron was human still he’d be pulling at his hair and mumbling, but this was as close as he could get in this form.

“You can be honest with me.” Harry’s voice is quiet, gentle. Despite all the time they spent together, they had yet to have a serious conversation, one that went beyond how Ron’s family was really doing instead of the facade they insisted on putting on when they were with Ron.

_“I can fly now,”_ Ron’s rumbling voice is gentle in Harry’s head, but he jerks at the confession. Ron had been trying for months to fly, having to do his attempts at night so he wouldn’t get seen. _“When I forget who I was, it was easy almost. Like breathing, I just stopped. Stopped trying to be Ron and I was in the air.”_

“Why didn’t you say anything.” Harry’s frustration comes through and Ron stirs beside him, sitting up on his haunches, putting more distance between himself and Harry. They were both tense, Ron’s body language looking like an animal about to flee and Harry’s being ready to run away himself, or to fight. He honestly wasn’t sure what he was feeling at that moment.

_“Because of this,”_ Ron gestures as best as he could between the two of them. _“I know you feel like this is all your fault and I know that the less I seem like Ron, the more you get upset.”_

“You’re not making any sense,” Harry’s voice raises, anger coming at the front of his emotions. He’s standing now and he doesn’t even remember getting up. “You are Ron, you can’t seem like less of the person you are.”

_“Did you ever think that Ron died in that fire and I’m just the dragon that took his place?”_ A growl comes deep from his throat and Ron’s teeth are bared, angry. Harry stumbles back away from Ron at the sound, instinct telling him to get away from the dangerous animal.

The growling stops and Ron makes a similar whining sound that he made that first night Harry discovered him when Ron had asked him to go away. Something breaks in Harry’s heart and the anger and frustration he felt a moment before melted away.

“Ron -”

_“I’m going._ Ron doesn’t let Harry say anything, backing away from Harry and unfolding his wings from his side. _“Don’t follow.”_

Before Harry can say or do anything, Ron jumps from the ground and flies away, his figure disappearing in the dark snowy night. Harry watches as long as he can, until Ron’s shadow disappears in the night, till his jacket is soaked through until his fingers go numb.

Harry goes back to the Burrow when he has no more tears left to cry.

…

“We should talk about the elephant in the room.” Charlie sits down next to Harry, and Harry immediately tries to get up, knowing where this conversation is going and not having the energy to deal with it, today or ever. Charlie’s arm blocks him though and Harry couldn’t very well apparate away, it would be rude and he was afraid of what Charlie might do if he made him chase Harry down. “It's more of a dragon in the room really.”

“Charlie, don’t.” Harry’s reply is weak, he really didn’t want to be there. He’s been depressed since his fight with Ron weeks ago, and not seeing him since hadn’t helped the raw feelings from that night dampen. Harry was a mess, and he knew it was only a matter of time before someone told him to get some help.  
“Nope,” Charlie drawls, popping the p as he says it. He was trying to make Harry relax like he knew that the moment Harry found an out he would take it. “You’re in love with my baby brother and I think you both need to hear it.”

All the ways Harry could deny his feelings for Ron ran through his head at once, but he couldn’t find it in him to say any of them. He was tired of lying about how he felt and he was tired of feeling like he was in a hopeless situation.

“I just want him back,” Harry confesses finally, hands fisted in his lap, head bent down and eyes screwed shut willing the tears he felt coming to not fall.

Charlie doesn’t say anything, just pulls Harry into him, tucks his head into his chest, and holds him tight.

…

Ron comes back when the snow begins to melt away, his red scales shining in the morning light.

Harry thinks he looks beautiful, and for the first time, he admits it out loud, resting his forehead against Ron’s own, enjoying the warmth of Ron’s scales.

_“Fly with me,”_ Ron responds, and Harry nods his head, knowing he’ll go wherever the other takes him, no questions asked. He climbs onto Ron’s back, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas or to put on trainers. Inside the Burrow everyone is asleep and Harry can’t be bothered to wake any of them up, he didn’t want to share Ron with anyone at that moment, preferring to be selfish with his emotions.

When they’re in the air, Harry takes in a deep breath and lets everything fall away until it’s just him and Ron, a wizard and his dragon.

…

Love as it turns out, was Ron’s salvation.

That night that he had burned away until he was something else, something not human, had been because of Harry’s love. He had survived the fiendfyre, but he had lost himself in the process.

Harry had brought him back, made him remember that beneath the beast there was Ron.

His memories between when his transformation and the time Harry had found him was a blur, it was mostly instincts. Waking in a body that wasn’t his own in a place unfamiliar to him. Charlie had informed him that he hadn’t hurt anyone, but Ron remembers thinking of his brother as a threat, as prey and he was thankful that Harry had been there to remind him of who he was.

Everything after that had been an adjustment.

It took him a long time to come to terms with who he was now, what he was now. He wasn’t a wizard anymore, and he couldn’t go back to before, there was only now.

But some things from before couldn’t stay in the past, they would remain a constant. Something past, present, and future.

One of those things was the love he had for Harry, and the love Harry had for Ron.

It took time for Ron to admit it to Harry, desperate at their situation. It could never go anywhere, and Ron had tried to run away from that, but they were connected. It was something neither of them could explain, it had always been there. Ever since the first time they had met on the Hogwarts Express, there was something between the two of them that couldn’t be broken, not by jealousy or cursed items, or even death. When Harry had almost died to save Ron, that connection just deepened.

Now looking down at Harry, Ron could never imagine his life without him.

“We should go,” Harry reaches out and pulls Ron’s hand into his own, interlocking their fingers. “You know how your mother gets.”

“My dad has all the patience in the family I’m afraid,” Ron jokes, smiling. “Do you want to fly there?” Ron asks but he already knows the answer. Harry loved flying, and Ron loved to fly with him. He may not have his magic anymore, at least not in the way he had before his transformation, but when he was in the sky with Harry it felt like he was casting a patronus once more.

“Did you even have to ask?” Harry asks, and pulls away from Ron, giving him enough space. “Watch out for the hostas though, Neville was devastated the last time you burned them.”

“You’re so domestic.” Ron jokes and Harry just flips him the bird, laughing. Ron warms at the sight of it and not for the first time cursing himself for not admitting his love for his best friend earlier.

Keeping that warm feeling going Ron closed his eyes and breathed deeply, finding the fire that was now part of him, deep in his center. He let the flames grow until they consumed him, transforming him as they burned.

He opened his eyes and lowered his body so that Harry could climb onto his back.

  
And then they _flew._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the idea here is that Ron isn't a human and he isn't a dragon either, but something in between, and he can switch from one to the other, but he's not fully either - his magic is different now, he can't cast spells but it's still there, it's just magic that completely based in fire
> 
> (also one of my favorite parts of How to Train Your Dragon was how much of a cat Toothless was and I continued that in this AU, I'm sure at one point someone pointed this out to Ron and he was very much NOT amused)


End file.
